


Beg

by princess_evans_addict



Category: Actor RPF, Chris Evans (actor) - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Smut, Tickling, sex with tickling, tickle fetish, tickle kink, tickle smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-13 21:31:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11768787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princess_evans_addict/pseuds/princess_evans_addict
Summary: Admitting your fetish to Chris may not have been a bad idea





	Beg

“Are you ready?” Chris whispers in your ear, making you shiver and tighten your fists. The air is cool against your naked body, arms tied to each end of the headboard and feet locked in stocks at the end of the bed. You’d been terrified of your little secret, especially when he figured it out all by himself, but he simply smiled and acted like nothing happened.

Until the packages arrived.

You’d seen then before he put the blindfold on: feathers, paint brushes, baby oil, more padded cuffs, toe ties in case he wants to torment your feet even more than usual. You love it when he uses the tools, giving you what your kink always asks.

“Ready for what?” You ask, forcing your voice to be calm. “You’re not enough to break me.” You know how much he loves to hear you deny your weakness, how turned on he gets at the challenge of tickling you to tears, until you beg for release.

“You’re going to regret that,” His voice is dark and smooth, and you can’t help but shiver as he brushes hair off of your neck and tenderly kisses your skin. “You’ve been a bad little girl, haven’t you?” He muses into your ear, gently biting your lobe.

You swallow, not wanting to get distracted by pleasure. “No,” You can’t help but smirk, eager for him to start.

He chuckles lowly, a dangerous tone you’re used to lurking beneath. “Teasing me like that,” He continues, hand traveling down your stomach and brushing where you’re already wet. “In front of my mother, too. Do you think that’s what a good girl does?”

You bite your lip, fighting back a whimper. It’s so unfair, taking advantage of that opening, teasing you before he’s started. “You didn’t seem to mind.”

He moves his hand, and then he’s silent for a long moment, making you squirm. “You deserve to be punished,” He whispers, brushing your inner thigh. “Don’t you?”

Your muscles twitch under his teasing touch. “N-No,” You breathe, forcing yourself to ignore it. You love it, but part of the fun is the denial.

He chuckles again. “I’m going to make you beg,” He lightly brushes all ten fingers up and down your inner thighs, making you suck in a sharp breath and tense.

“I- I don’t… beg,” You grind out, ignoring the feeling.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” There’s no teasing in his voice, making you wet quickly. “Ticklish?”

“N- No.” You gasp when his finger brush the junction of your thighs, but he continues his trip up, making you squirm when he reaches your stomach.

“Oh, did I find a spot?” You can hear his smile as he lightly traces all over your stomach, making you bite your lip to try to prevent yourself from laughing. “Don’t try to hide it from me, (Y/N). We both no you’ll lose.”

“I’m n-not tihicklish,” You internally curse yourself, hearing the giggles you couldn’t catch escape and know he won’t miss them.

“I think you are,” He slowly swirls a finger around your belly button. “Do you know what I do to liars, little girl?” He dips in before you can respond, making you squeal and burst into laughter. “Gotcha.”

“Pleheheheheease!” Your head goes back, and you feel his lips brush against the exposed skin, making you shriek and jerk your head back to try to protect yourself.

“Please what?” Please stop?“ His hands move up your sides and ribs and scribbles into your armpits, making you scream. "No, I don’t think I will. I’ll just keep tickling, not stopping, not giving you any mercy.” You can hear his smirk. “You deserve that, don’t you?”

“Nohohohohohoho!” You laugh, thrashing in your bonds, but you aren’t going anywhere. He stops, leaving you to gasp, and then fingers brush against your soles. You squeal. “No! Not there!”

“Here?” He grins, scribbling at your soles and teasing your toes, making you giggle uncontrollably. “Hmm, I like this spot. You’re so cute, baby girl.” You squeak when he gets between and under your toes. “Oh, your toes? Does this tickle? I’ll just stay here, tickling and tickling-” He suddenly stops, and you gasp, whining at your throbbing core.

“Not yet,” He whispers, brushing sweaty strands from your face. You whimper, needing more, needing  _him_ , and then you feel a feather brush your slit, making you scream and laugh hysterically, unable to move away. “Not yet, my ticklish girl. Not until you’ve paid.”


End file.
